


The One Where Tony is in Over His Head (But What Else is New?)

by Felanthe



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AA, Animal Transformation, Avengers - Freeform, Avengers Assemble - Freeform, Flashbacks, Insects, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, PTSD, Slow Burn, large insects, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2018-11-11 14:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11150073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felanthe/pseuds/Felanthe
Summary: Tony finished his coffee and was on the last few emails when someone slid into the booth across from him.“Um, do I know you?” Tony asked, eyes flicking up to settle on the stranger’s face. Immediately his blood went cold and he nearly dropped his phone.“We’ve met, yes.” Loki said, picking at his nails as if he was bored.





	1. They just can't get along

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I'm a fan of members of the team being hilariously inconvenienced by unexpected animal transformations, so if you've read my other work before you can sort of know what to expect. This one is less crack-y, and I went for something more serious. I of course make some of it light-hearted and my writing style is more amusing, but in the next few chapters it definitely gets some serious vibes. If you see typos or mistakes feel free to let me know! I have to be my own beta and I'd appreciate any help. 
> 
> But anyways, enjoy!

Tony wasn’t really sure what he was expecting. Fist fights? Maybe. Brawling over who got the last frozen waffle? Definitely. Avoiding each other and dishing out some cold shoulders? Only vaguely crossed his mind. 

Tony had naively expected everything to be all hunky-dory when he finally got all of the Avengers living in the same building (which had taken a lot of persuasion, money, and grovelling to accomplish), but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Everyone was awkward around each other, and most of them were the type of person who would rather have a fist-to-face than a heart-to-heart; which meant that everyone was easily set off, and little squabbles broke out over even small things, such as picking a channel or deciding who got the last of the leftover chicken wings. The entire mansion started to give off a perpetually irritated vibe in itself- unless that was just them projecting their feelings. Though perhaps not- JARVIS was just as short as the rest of them the longer it went on.

Tony could admit that he too was guilty of it, but it all boiled down to one thing; trust. None of them trusted each other yet. Which was, quite frankly, ridiculous. They’d saved each other’s skins on the battlefield, but they would all rather cut off a finger or two than trust each other with their inner thoughts or more sensitive personal feelings.

It wasn’t always a matter of secrets or discretion, though. Most of them didn’t want to be seen as weak or mentally unfit to be an active member of the team. Tony especially was careful, since his position was rocky, being signed on as only a consultant for SHIELD. He knew that Fury would probably jump on the opportunity to give him both the metaphorical and literal boot. 

Tony did everything he could to prove that he was just as worthy of being an Avenger as Iron Man was; he was cranking out assignments for SHIELD left and right, continuously upgrading the Avengers’ gear, attending board meetings and press conferences for SI as well as keeping on top of the R&D workload. Suit repairs were also on the Mandatory list, as well as developing new tech and fabricating entire new suits. He was burning the candle at both ends. 

Though, it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. Tony Stark has been striving to go above and beyond since he was a young child. Proving to his father that he was worth attention, proving to SI that he was a competent CEO, proving to the world that he was good at being Iron Man. His father never gave him the time of day and he ended up giving the CEO position to Pepper, but at least the media agreed that he was good at what he did. The other Avengers? Not so much.

“I did what I had to, okay?” Tony snapped, pulling the release on a gauntlet and yanking it off. Steve was hot on his heels as they made their way into the mansion from the landing pad. The Quinjet wasn’t back yet, and Steve had asked for a ride back. Tony knew he was going to get yelled at when he accepted the request, but Steve’s ire only got worse the longer one avoided it, so he tended to just let Cap blow off some steam so it would be over faster.

“You defied orders and went AWOL in the middle of battle, when Clint needed your assistance. _How_ is that-”

“I was saving a ten year old kid from drowning- and Clint is a grown ass man, he can take care of himself! Should I have left her?!” Tony fought not to throw his helmet once it was off, reluctant to cause more damage than was already done by their creature-of-the-week. He had so many projects on hold that suit repairs would hopefully be able to wait for a bit.

“No! That’s not my point!” Steve shouted, throwing his hands up, and dropping his own helmet in the process. _He_ didn’t seem to care. He was almost vibrating with frustration, hands fisted and jaw set. Steve tailed Tony through the whole house all the way into the basement, right down to the doors of the workshop.

“I get it, I get it. Complaints noted.” Tony slammed the button to shut the workshop doors, leaving Steve to fume in the hallway. “Lock the lab, JARVIS. I have programs to code, boots to weld, and gear to fabricate.” Tony discarded his gauntlets and helmet on the table designated for the suit as he made his way to the back of the room, where JARVIS was prepping the machines to remove the rest of it. The process was more refined than it had been at first and Tony was off like a shot once the last piece came off, raising all the holograms he had left before the spontaneous battle. He had been halfway through a security upgrade for SHIELD’s helicarrier amongst numerous other things. He plucked that particular hologram out and discarded the rest, opening up a few empty windows for notes and ideas as he went, delving back into his project as the workaholic version of stress relief.

Steve was getting on his nerves more than usual lately, always carrying a short fuse and more than ready to work Tony into blind rage. He had the uncanny ability to piss Tony off like few people had ever managed. Government officials and militant leaders were the first two, and Steve Rogers had weaseled his way right into slot number three. 

Tony didn’t even understand what he did wrong- besides being a cruel reminder to Steve of what he had lost and could never get back, but that was hardly Tony’s own fault. For once he refused to accept the blame even though most of their other issues were more than likely because of him. Tony was a selfish asshole who had an ego the size of Manhattan. Unsurprisingly it put people off, so he understood why Steve hated him so much. 

Tony pushed that to the back of his mind and put his nose to the grindstone for so long that he lost track of time, until his stomach was growing painfully and he really needed to pee. He was only maybe an hour away from finishing the SHIELD assignment though; that was a plus.

“JARVIS, time?” Tony cracked his back and stretched, letting the AI minimize some of the open holograms and turn down his music to an appropriate volume.

“You have been working for fourteen hours, Sir.” JARVIS sounded a little irritated, so Tony decided to appease him and take a break. He skipped a few paces until he jumped onto his rolling chair, which travelled to the kitchenette with his momentum. Tony ended up within arm’s reach of the fridge and he peered in to find leftover Thai-Fusion from the last time he ordered in. It was only a few days old so he chucked it in the microwave and plugged in the blender, which excited Dummy so much that he nudged Tony’s chair out of the way so he could make the smoothie himself. 

“JARVIS, make a note: 10:46 a.m. on a Sunday, which in the Stark household is deemed ‘catch-up day’, I voluntarily am eating and drinking something that is _not_ coffee. This has got to be one for the books.” Tony found a plastic fork and plucked the takeout from the microwave, not bothering to let it cool before he dug in.

“Indeed it is. The last time you ate something substantial at the correct hour- of your own volition, excluding business ventures- was nearly a month ago.” JARVIS tended to keep track of things like that. Tony pulled his knees up to his chest and used them as a makeshift table while Dummy handed him the smoothie, and then helped out by rolling him all the way back to his work table. 

“Thanks bud.” Tony gave him a quick pat on the claw before he finished off the rest of his food, tossing the empty carton onto the scrap-metal table and getting back to work. 

Three hours and he’d nearly finished his smoothie, picking it up and sipping from it whenever he needed to think. He was on the last stretch for that wretched SHIELD assignment. He’d thought it would only take a few hours, but it continued to get more complicated, drawing out the process nearly to a full day. 

Something bumped against his elbow and Tony turned to see Dummy holding out the blender container itself instead of a regular cup. It looked to be a fruit smoothie this time, which was weird, since he didn’t think he’d brought anything fruity down to the workshop recently.

“JARVIS, what’s in here? Where did he get it from?” Tony sniffed the blender, but it smelled fine, nothing strange or any traces of anything unfit to be in a fruit smoothie (such as asparagus, but Tony tended not to remind himself of the numerous fruit-veggie smoothies from Dummy, which always tasted horrendous).

“Captain Rogers brought down a plate of fruits, presumably for you to eat as breakfast. Dummy used a banana and the strawberries in addition to the normal protein mix.” JARVIS said. Tony looked over to the door and saw a plate with bananas and some blueberries perched on a nearby table. He used his chair to roll over to it, popping a few berries into his mouth. 

“What time did he drop by?” Tony asked, taking the plate with him and returning to his desk. Dummy left the smoothie next to his keyboard and went back to his charging station to nap, or whatever it was the robots did when they re-charged. Butterfingers and U had been charging all day- they were getting software updates, and Tony wasn’t doing suit repairs, so he didn’t need any extra hands. 

“Captain Rogers stopped by at 11:15.” Tony rubbed a hand over his mouth in thought. Cap was frustrating and confusing- he was doing little things like that all the time. He brought down food at least once or twice a day. Then, whenever Tony went up and actually talked with the guy, he was hot and cold. They could be having a pleasant conversation one minute, and a screaming match the next. Tony had paid close attention to figure out what set the man off but found nothing. No matter what he did, Cap would suddenly get closed off and defensive, and things would be said that they both regretted but refused to talk about. Steve would apologize by bringing Tony food and giving the bots a little TLC, while Tony would give Steve’s armor a few extra upgrades and introduce him to a new book or movie that he knew Steve would like. The next week the cycle would repeat. Tony had a hard time managing the constant whiplash of the whole thing, to be frank. 

As it turned out, another twenty minutes, and the security upgrades were complete. Tony swept the files into his ‘Completed’ folder with a flourish, and hopped over to the discarded armor with a bit more pep in his step. He loved repairing and working on the armor; it was something that never got old. He’d been cranking out that software for too long and this was Tony’s equivalent of taking a break. 

He’d started around three-ish and barely had Dummy situated with a damaged boot before there was a soft _whoosh_ as the workshop doors slid open. Tony was grease-stained in an old black wife beater with holey jeans, wearing a protective mask and gloves in preparation to solder, but Steve still gave him a small smile instead of the Disapproving Frown like he usually did. He was also carrying a small plate, which when Tony took a closer look, seemed to have several sandwiches on it. Steve navigated his way to Tony’s seat and held out the plate. _So, we’re onto the apology stage._

“Hey, Steve. Thanks.” Tony grabbed a sandwich and gestured to a spare seat, where Steve sat down and started in on the rest of the sandwiches like he’d been starved. Tony could swear that the man lived half his life in the kitchen.

“So I wanted to apologize for yelling at you yesterday.” Steve started, one sandwich already gone and another on the way. Tony gave him a look that wasn’t unfriendly and put down the second half of his sandwich. “All I ever ask is that you _tell us_ when you need to do something or go against orders. I understand that you’ll see someone in danger, or you’ll realize the solution and need someone to cover while you do what it is that you need to do. _Not_ telling me isn’t going to give you a free pass to doing what you want and dealing with the consequences later. I need to know what’s going on. I can’t lead to the best of my abilities if I don’t know where my team members are, or what they’re doing. Just tell me what the change in plans are, or that you need to take a detour, so I can compensate. Like yesterday; if you’d told me that you needed to go help a civilian, I could have immediately given Thor the orders to move Clint out of the situation he was in. Instead, I had no idea that you weren’t on your way and Clint was in trouble because Thor almost didn’t have enough time to get there.” 

Steve gave a tiny nod, as if he decided he’d said everything he wanted to say, and went back to attacking his PB&J. Tony sat for a few seconds to digest the half-lecture half-speech and set his jaw. He understood what Steve was saying, but sometimes he didn’t have _time_ to tell them. Sometimes he made such split-second decisions that there was barely time to breathe before he was changing plans. He’d seen the girl drowning and didn’t even think before he was shooting towards her and getting her back to the docks where there hadn’t been anyone around to see her fall. He’d found a SHIELD medical tent and dropped her off there, but by then Thor had had to step in and save Clint from falling down into the collapsing building, and everyone was pissed because Tony wasn’t answering the comms. 

“I’ll try, Steve, but sometimes I don’t get the chance; remember the bomb, from the other week?” Tony said, trying not to sound pleading and likely falling short of the mark. Steve nodded, second sandwich almost gone, though he stopped eating to give Tony all of his attention. “I had no idea it was there until I stumbled on it, and it had less than thirty seconds left before it was going to blow. I’m a genius, but even then I diffused it with barely a second to spare. If I’d tried to explain and focus at the same time, I’m not sure New York would have walked away intact. I can’t always multi-task under so much pressure.” Tony brushed his hands off on his pants and flipped the soldering mask down so Steve couldn’t see his face. 

It was always hard to admit that he couldn’t do something; the most frustrating things to Tony were the things he could have done better, the times he could have gone faster, and the schemes he didn’t figure out until it was too late. Tony’s biggest regret was not being able to do more. 

“Please, just try. If you have even a few seconds to remember, tell us that you’ll be unavailable or that you need to go against orders. We just need to know so we can compensate.” Steve picked up a third sandwich and Tony barely kept himself from snorting at the man’s appetite. He understood what Steve was saying; he just couldn’t make any promises. Tony was actually surprised that they ended the conversation so civilly. Maybe Steve really was making an effort to respect Tony despite their first impressions of each other; maybe they could put that hate and anger in the past, and actually become _friends_.

A few days later and Tony was- for one of the increasingly frequent times in his life- proven very horribly, blatantly wrong.


	2. It's Bugging Tony, A Lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehehe

“Widow, there’s a batch making their way up 44th.” Tony warned, shooting up and over the buildings towards the center of the chaos. Thor, Hulk, and him were taking care of the biggest cluster while Clint tracked the smaller groups that broke off, and Natasha and Steve maintained the the perimeter. It was almost a week since their last battle and this time they were fighting back hordes of large, vicious grasshoppers. And Tony wasn’t one to exaggerate the mundane, so when he said that the grasshoppers were large and angry, he meant that they were all the size of your average sofa and desperate for destruction. They chewed and ate anything they could. Including, but not limited to: street signs, parked cars, lamp posts, buildings, humans, parking meters, outdoor patio furniture, each other (Tony gagged when he discovered that one), and deadly flying suits of metal. Tony had already lost a thigh plate and a few shoulder plates to the beasts. They couldn’t necessarily fly, but they could jump and glide high enough to snatch Tony unsuspectingly out of the sky. He did his level best not to get grabbed again but it was a bit inevitable, since he couldn’t watch all of them at once. 

“Copy, heading there now.” Natasha grunted, a _crack-snap-squish_ barely audible from her comm. Tony made a disgusted face and shot his repulsors into the mass of insects as he flew by, not staying to watch any explode. Tony wasn’t usually squeamish; he could handle blood and gore, but he drew the line at furniture-sized grasshoppers getting disemboweled in the streets. He did _not_ envy whoever was going to clean that up. 

Most of the streets had been cleared of civilians, though the bugs were starting to chew through the buildings, and they wouldn’t be safe for long. Tony ran a few probabilities and wanted to swear at the results JARVIS gave. All of the available options resulted in civilian casualties and he refused to accept that. _Think, Stark! How do you get a swarm of pissed-off locusts out of your corn field?_ New York wasn’t much of a corn field, but there were two answers; scare them, or lure them. And they had already done their damndest to scare them, though it only made them eat faster, and that was the opposite of what they wanted. What would interest a bunch of man-eating insects more than concrete slabs and squishy humans?

Tony swooped in low, doing loops and getting as close as he could to get the bugs’ attention. They crawled over each other in a mass of squirming green towards Tony and he stayed just close enough to keep their focus, but stayed back far enough to not become lunch.

“Guys, I have a plan. Cap and Widow, you keep eliminating the strays. Thor, buddy, I’m gonna need your help. I’ll lure them to the water, and you deep fry them to the American standard of perfection.” Thor copied enthusiastically, flying past Tony to meet him at the bay, while Steve started to 'Hen', as they called it.

“Iron Man, I don’t think it’s the safest idea. You’re too close, and one wrong move-”

“Well I don’t plan on making any wrong moves, so I think I’ll be fine. We can handle it, just keep any from escaping. We don’t need these things terrorizing the rest of New York state and getting us sued.” Tony said, shutting off his comms when Steve continued to argue. Tony could take care of himself- he wasn’t a child! 

Tony wasn’t moving as fast as he’d like, hovering a few seconds to let the swarm catch up, before he shot down the street and waited for them again, trying not to lose their attention. Thor waited patiently enough but each time Tony stopped he was nearly snatched by an ambitious ‘hopper and he really just wanted to get this fight over with so he could go back to the mansion and power-wash the guts off his armor. He’d already almost thrown up in the suit before JARVIS started filtering the air to get rid of the smell, and he was really just done with this disgusting creepy-crawly day. 

Tony lured them all the way to the docks, hovering over the water while almost half the grasshoppers slipped over the retaining wall before they could stop. The remaining bugs chattered angrily and a few even jumped at Tony in a vain attempt to avenge their drowned brethren. At least, that would probably be their motivation if they were sentient, but they likely just wanted to eat Tony’s gauntlets off.

Then a few things seemed to happen at once; Tony looked over at Thor, who was spinning his hammer and waiting for a signal. As soon as Tony raised an arm that meant ‘go nuts’, Thor let loose on the group of bugs, and one jumped up in the time that Tony had looked away, grabbing onto both his boots and dragging him down into the water.

Tony actually shouted in surprise as they dropped like stones and sunk much the same. The grasshopper thrashed and ripped off the boots, crawling across Tony and tearing at the armor, as if trying to get back to the surface as fast as it could. He threw up his hands as the grasshopper made to chomp down on the helmet and got his gauntlets torn off for his troubles. Water was steadily leaking into the suit and JARVIS was saying something, sounding urgent, but Tony was panicking and trying to push the bug off. The prongs on the grasshopper’s legs were caught in the armor and there was a soft _thud_ as Tony’s back hit the sandy bottom. 

_Where the hell is Thor?_ Tony coughed out a mouthful of water, head tilted up to keep his lips and nose above the rising water line. 

“JARVIS, comms-” Tony spluttered, clawing at the grasshopper’s legs and trying to wiggle out from underneath it. 

“-nthony, the beasts are vanquished. Anthony?” Thor was saying, apparently having missed Tony go under.

“Thor, I’m-” Tony choked and started to hack, inhaling more water through his mouth as he gasped for breath. “I’m in the water! I’m-” The water was too high in Tony’s helmet for him to talk, and he forced himself to breathe through his nose despite his lungs screaming for more air. 

“Tony, are you alright?! Thor, can you find him?” Steve was yelling, and Clint said something, but then the water sloshed up into his nose and Tony was effectively drowning. The grasshopper had stopped moving, but the legs were locked in a morbid embrace even after death. Tony tried to scream and it came out as a desperate gurgle. 

Through the haze of fear and lack of air Tony felt his body jerk as the grasshopper was pulled off. After a heartbeat of being dragged upwards he was suddenly much heavier, back on a hard surface and arms like lead, but still clawing at his helmet and unable to find the release. Someone else pushed his arms away and did it for him.

The helmet was pulled off his head and Tony could finally breathe. He choked out all the water in his lungs and gasped, turning onto his side and breathing through the burning in his chest and the constricted feeling of _not enough, needmoredeepbreathBREATHE-_

“-ony, Tony! You’re fine, slow down-” Someone’s hands were on his shoulders, but Tony still couldn’t breathe in enough, his lungs burned like he was drinking fire instead of air and the panic hadn’t left, he was going to suffocate because of his stupid damaged lungs and the stupid-

Someone gave him a bruising slap on the back and Tony coughed, throwing up the rest of the water he hadn’t already. This time the burning started to fade and he could actually get in a real breath. Tony gasped and his chest heaved while the world came back into focus.

“Are you alright, Tony? Are you hurt anywhere?” Bruce was crouched in front of him and had a hand between his shoulder blades, rocking the armor back and forth from the force of his concerned rubbing. Tony flopped himself back into a sitting position and groaned.

“I’m alright, I’m fine. Thanks, Thor.” The whole team was gathered in a circle around Tony at this point. Thor nodded solemnly at him, resting mjolnir on his shoulder as he surveyed the damage to the streets behind them. Clint moved his quiver to his hip and slung his bow over his back so he could get out his SHIELD-issued phone and call Coulson, while Natasha investigated a dead grasshopper and Steve stood rigidly in parade rest. He was almost vibrating from what seemed to be anger, if his Disapproving Frown was anything to go by.

“Please, don’t start. At least wait for us all to get back to the mansion, I’m too tired to argue.” Tony muttered, using Thor to haul himself to his feet. The armor somewhat compensated for his unsteady legs and he picked up the helmet, slipping it back on his head and reading the HUD as his vitals started popping up.

Steve looked pissed, but he didn’t say anything, instead getting on comms to talk to the SHIELD agents in charge of cleanup and medical assistance. JARVIS spoke up in Tony’s private comm line while everyone else wandered away to help the agents organize the chaos.

“Vitals appear stable and non-threatening. I’m glad you’re alright, Sir.” JARVIS’s voice always helped to reassure Tony, and he sighed, letting his shoulders slump a little inside the suit.

“Thanks, JARVIS. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment or kudos if you like it and want to see more :)


	3. Paw-sitively Terrible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, puns

Steve hadn’t gone off after the battle, but he was more than ready to fight about it once they got back to the mansion. 

“What were you _thinking_?! Dangerous, unnecessary risks-”

“I was thinking, hey, maybe we should get rid of these fucking locusts before they _eat Manhattan!_ ” Tony shouted, having regained some energy after nearly drowning. The team had benched him while they helped clean up since he’d refused to go to medical. 

“You could have gone about it any other way! Instead, you let yourself get _nearly killed_ just because it was the most dramatic option you had!” Steve jabbed his finger into the chest of the armor, right where the glass casing for the reactor sat. Tony slapped his hand away and used his height advantage to loom over him.

“ _Dramatic?!_ You think I-”

“I think you need to stop making impulsive decisions that could cost you a life, whether it’s your own or a teammate’s! Get it together, Stark, or I’ll bench you for your continued recklessness and lack of consideration for your teammates.” Steve gave Tony a small push and stormed past, slamming his bedroom door in the most accurate impression of a child he could get. Tony picked up one of the couch cushions and screamed into it as loud as he could, despite his sore throat. 

The team had all fled the communal area as soon as they got back though Bruce had gone into the kitchen while everyone else went to their rooms, likely to get some tea while everyone else showered the disgusting bug guts off. Tony didn’t hear Bruce come back into the living room, but he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder after almost a minute of creative scream-swearing into the poor pillow.

“He’s just-” Bruce started, but Tony wasn’t having it. He threw the pillow down and stalked towards the staircase to hide out in his lab. He had a shower and a small linen closet full of spare clothes, so he didn’t see a need to stomp past Steve’s room lest he do something ‘impulsive’ and ‘reckless’ like breaking down that douchecanoe’s door and punching him right in the face.

Dummy gave him an enthusiastic greeting, quelling Tony’s anger a little as he bobbed his claw up and down, not unlike a bird would. He waited patiently while Tony had the armor taken off and as soon as he could he was up in Tony’s space, bumping into him and beeping excitedly. Butterfingers and U were more laid back but they too patted him with their arms and started to beep. Tony felt a hundred times better after they’d said hello and he even sang to some Metallica during his shower, as opposed to screaming, like he usually did after arguing with Steve.

Tony stepped out of the shower feeling a bit better, and got dressed in a band t-shirt and jeans, planning on getting out of the house to clear his head. Dummy _meeped_ sadly when he realized that Tony was already leaving them so soon after getting back.

“I won’t be gone for long, buddy. I’m gonna go for a ride, get some lunch, and be back before you know it. I promise.” Tony ran a hand down Dummy’s arm as he made his way to the workshop doors, getting to the garage as stealthily as he could to avoid running into Steve. He got in his Audi and peeled out of the driveway with a screech of tires.

Tony hadn’t gone on a drive just for fun in a long time, and he was enjoying the late September wind through his damp hair. It felt nice to just do something for _him_ instead of someone else. Especially when it involved Starbucks- his guilty pleasure when he had the time.

Tony’s favorite Starbucks was within walking distance from Stark Tower, so he parked the Audi in his personal garage and took a long walk, hands in his pockets and people-watching as he made his way down the sidewalk. A few people recognized him but none stopped to take pictures; it was a work day, and near the end of most people’s lunch hour. He wasn’t surprised that they didn’t have the time.

The barista instantly recognized him when he walked through the door, but it wasn’t just because he was Tony Stark. Before he’d moved himself and all the Avengers into the mansion, he was living at Stark Tower, and he came here almost every day.

“Hey, Tony. Long time no see.” She beamed at him, and it was that contagious sort of happiness, so he found himself with a genuine smile. 

“Yea, I don’t find myself over this way as often anymore. I was going by today, though, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to say hi.” 

“Well, it’s definitely good to see you again. What’ll you be having?” Tony always got something different if he was in a good mood. He settled on something 120% chocolate and cavity-inducing, thanking the barista- Megan- after he got his drink and left to sit down. He chose a quiet corner and sipped his sugary monstrosity while he went through his emails. Most were about the battle from the morning, a few from Fury and Coulson, while the rest was from SI and Pepper. 

Tony finished his coffee and was on the last few emails when someone slid into the booth across from him.

“Um, do I know you?” Tony asked, eyes flicking up to settle on the stranger’s face. Immediately his blood went cold and he nearly dropped his phone.

“We’ve met, yes.” Loki said, picking at his nails as if he was bored. Tony subtly triggered the Avengers alarm he had on his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Loki glanced down at it but said nothing, instead lounging back in the seat and crossing his legs.

“What do you want? I thought you were rotting in Asgardian prison.” Tony hissed, rubbing his thumb on one of the homing bracelets he had on. The suit could get there in a minute or two, but depending on what Loki was up to, Tony had no idea if that would be soon enough.

“As much as I loved the hospitality, I really couldn’t stay. Armies to gather, worlds to conquer, that sort of thing.” Loki finally dropped his hand and sat up straight, staring at Tony right in the eye. “I also have a few enemies to vanquish. This is the part where you come in.” 

“I’m not helping you vanquish anyone, and you’re sure as hell not vanquishing me, so if you could-”

“Actually, I do need your help.” Loki’s face was amused, and Tony could swear the demi-god was fighting back a grin. And what the hell could Tony do for _him_? 

“I already said I’m not helping you.” Tony realized he was gripping his- thankfully empty- plastic coffee cup so hard that it was a crumpled mess, so he relaxed his hand and took a deep breath. _God of mischief, can and will fuck you up in or out of the armor. No worries._

“Well, now we can’t have that.” Loki’s hand shot out and he grabbed a fistful of Tony’s hair, his other hand resting on Tony’s forehead. He whispered a harsh-sounding chant in an unfamiliar tongue, and Tony had a moment to enjoy a sensation similar to being slammed into a brick wall right before his consciousness was ripped away.

Tony wasn’t sure how long he’d been out when he woke up. He was lying on the cool cement in what looked like an alley, nobody else in sight.

“Well, that was quick.” 

Loki, again. Tony flailed and tried to get to his feet, but he was dizzy, and his legs didn’t want to work right. Something was wrong. _Horribly_ wrong. He couldn’t even hear the ever-present hum of the reactor.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Transformation charms take a lot out of you, I’d bet you’re going to feel a bit wobbly for a while.” Loki crouched down to look Tony in the eyes, and Tony swung his arm out, catching Loki on the cheek. It didn’t land very hard and the god laughed, picking up Tony’s arm and letting it drop again.

_Wait a minute._

Tony lifted his arm again and looked at it, shouting obscenities when he realized what had happened. He was covered in fur, and Loki had said ‘transformation spell’. From the look of his hand- paw, damnit- he was some kind of dog. 

Tony felt nausea and panic rise up in his chest and he heaved in a breath, noting how much easier it was to breathe without so much weight in his chest. Wait-

Tony looked down and nearly threw up. His reactor was gone, and he was going to die, the shrapnel was going to pierce his heart and kill him and the team wouldn’t even have any idea that he’d died and he would be put down as missing and never found again. 

Tony took a breath and paused. He didn’t feel like his chest was on fire. He felt around and didn’t feel a hole, didn’t feel the empty casing cold and dark like after Obadiah reached in and-

Deep breath. Tony was fine, he wasn’t going to die. Yet. Which meant he had to get away from Loki or otherwise stop him- alone, suitless, and no longer human. So Tony did what he did best, and turned his fear into a shield of anger, posturing in the vain attempt to buy time before the Avengers responded to the alert he’d put out before Loki turned him into a dog.

“You horse-fucking _bastard_ , wait ‘till I get my hands on you-”

“Paws, you mean.” Loki stood up and laughed, striding over a few feet and picking up Tony’s pile of discarded clothes. With a faint white glow and a matter of seconds he transformed himself to look like the spitting image of Anthony Stark. He gave Tony a smarmy grin before he changed into the jeans and shirt, and then nobody would have been able to tell them apart. Well, before the original Tony became a dog, that is.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing? Turn me back or so help me, I’ll-”

“You’ll _what_? Sorry to say it, Stark, but there is _nothing_ you can do in that form to stop me.” Even Loki’s voice sounded like Tony’s, though he talked just a tad bit different. Not that any of the Avengers would ever be able to tell.

Plus, Loki wasn’t wrong. Tony was pretty powerless as a dog, and there was only one option left to him. 

Tony lunged up and sunk his teeth into Loki’s leg, biting down as hard as he could. To his surprise there was a sick _crunch_ noise as both the bones in Loki’s shin broke. The most alarming part, however, was the fact that Loki didn’t immediately send him flying. Instead, he screamed, falling onto his back and scrambling away while his other foot kicked at Tony’s nose. The dizziness was starting to fade and Tony held on tight despite the continuous blows to his snout. He could taste and smell blood, and it was with a morbid sense of satisfaction that he whipped his head back and forth to rip the skin even further. 

“ _HEY!_ ” 

Tony didn’t even have time to let go before someone clocked him in the side of the face. He was so startled that he let go of Loki’s leg and jumped back, barely managing to dodge the follow-up kick.

“Stark, what the hell? You triggered the alarm because you couldn’t handle a _dog_?” Clint said, leaving Tony- the ‘dog’- alone and instead going back to the doppelganger to help him up. Loki made a bit of a show of trying to stand and then collapsing, holding his leg and scrunching his face up in pain. Tony didn’t see any of the other Avengers, though he heard the _whoosh whoosh whoosh_ of quinjet propellers nearby, the smell of gasoline and oil strong in the breeze passing by in front of the entrance to the alley.

“Damn, he really did a number on your leg. Bruce can check it out when we get back to the ‘jet.” Clint helped Loki up again and checked his other leg for wounds while Tony stared in disbelief. Logically, he knew that Clint wouldn’t realize that he had the wrong guy, but Tony was having a hard time accepting what was actually happening.

 _’Clint, what the hell? That’s Loki!_ Loki!’ Tony tried to shout, but it only came out as a series of barks. Clint looked over at him and frowned while he pulled Loki’s arm over his shoulders to help him walk. 

“Poor dog. So many people will get a German Shepherd because they see them on TV. Nobody realizes how hard they are to train…” Clint’s voice trailed off as Loki and him left the alley. 

Tony lurched to his feet, wobbling unsteadily before he regained his balance. His heart was still pounding and the panic was just under the surface of his skin, ready to seize his lungs and _squeeze_ -

Tony shook his head and sprinted after them, the weakness he’d felt after the spell fading as he ran towards the… _smell_ of his team, like metal and ozone and leather. All the new smells were overwhelming and it took a lot for Tony to ignore it and focus on what he was doing.

Tony turned into a near-empty parking lot to see the quinjet idling behind the forms of Natasha and Steve, who were waiting for Clint as he all but dragged ‘Tony’ towards the open hatch.

Clint handed Loki off to Bruce, who took him inside to look at his leg. The rest of the team stood together and didn’t seem to notice Tony stop behind a car a few yards off.

“I think his leg is broken. It was a German Shepherd, so I’m not surprised there was so much damage. They have the strongest jaws-” Clint cut himself off when Natasha gave him a _look_ , though Tony wasn't sure why.

“Was it rabid? Do we need to make Stark go to medical and get the bite checked out?” Steve asked, arms crossed over his chest and looking _way_ taller than Tony remembered. Of course, Tony was on all fours now- but either way it was levels more intimidating than before.

“No, not from what I saw. Just aggressive. It wasn’t mangey looking or anything so either it was a lost pet, or someone ditched it. Not our purview.” Clint said, looking over at Natasha. She gave a small nod, and they started back towards the quinjet.

 _’No! It’s me,_ I’m _the real Tony_!’ He barked and started to run, stopped as they all whipped around and their hands went to their weapons. They relaxed when he didn’t seem crazed or hungry for blood. Still, they watched him over their shoulders as they filed into the ‘jet, Clint glancing back one last time and shaking his head.

“We aren’t doing anything today, why can’t we take it to a shelter and have it checked for a chip? It’ll only take half an hour-” Clint started, but Steve shot him down. Tony didn’t catch the rest of their conversation after that because the quinjet doors shut and the engines revved. It raised up vertically until it was clear of the surrounding buildings, and with a roaring of propellers started off towards the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! Please feel free to leave a like or a kudos if you enjoyed it, seeing a positive reaction really helps me build up the confidence to keep going!


	4. Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I can explain! I uh got busy with college and completely forgot that I had two unfinished works just chilling. I'm sorry! If you're someone returning because of this update, holy shit. If you're new, I swear i'll get this finished! I know the update times look really bad, being a year apart and all, but it WILL happen. I already have like 40k of this one written so I only have to write a little more before it's finished. Expect a weekly update until I catch up to myself! At that point I'll let you know how the rest is going.
> 
> Thanks!

Steve

***  
As soon as Stark had been bit by that dog, he’d started acting weird.

“I think it’s broken.” He moaned from across the jet, and Steve exchanged a perplexed expression with Clint and Natasha. Stark had never complained about his injuries before- especially not about the serious ones. Steve had heard him whine about a paper cut at Bruce until the man’s eyes turned green, but never before had he actually consented to a real medical exam like this without being threatened first.

“Both your fibula and tibia are snapped, of course it’s broken. Stop complaining and hold still so I can splint it.” Bruce growled, massaging a palm against his forehead while he tried to wrap Stark’s leg.

“Hey Nat, do you think you could keep Stark occupied and send Bruce over here when they’re done?” Steve murmured. She didn’t look thrilled at the idea of babysitting, but she nodded anyways and stood gracefully from her seat.

“What’s gotten into him? Maybe that dog _did_ have something.” Clint asked, frowning. Steve opened his mouth to answer just as Bruce flopped down into one of the seats between them.

“Jesus, he’s being difficult today.” Bruce muttered, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Steve felt a small pang of sympathy for him.

“Are you alright? You seem stressed.” Steve put his elbows on his knees and relaxed his posture a bit to make sure he gave off a more companionable aura.

“The other guy’s a bit upset today, but hell if I know why. I think I need a vacation.” Bruce leaned his head back against the seat and they remained quiet until it was time to disembark. 

***

 

 

His first goal was getting back to the mansion. He had to tell his teammates what had happened, capture Loki, and get himself transformed back to normal. Easy.

 _‘Okay. Okay. I’m still next door to the coffee place, so the mansion isn’t unreasonably far away. I can do this.’_ Tony gave himself a quick pep-talk before he walked back out onto the sidewalk. It was busy as always, and he did his best to stay on the edge and avoid getting stepped on. Numerous children tried to pet him and Tony let them, unless they had sticky hands. He didn’t like the thought of trying to get a sucker out of the fur on his back.

 _’God, this is a mess.’_ Tony thought, occasionally glancing at himself as he passed shop windows. He was a darker brown with a black saddle pattern, like the standard German Shepherd. How the hell was he going to convince his team that he was the real Tony? Clint was the only one that seemed to even like dogs. 

Twenty minutes later and Tony didn’t feel that he’d made much headway. He wasn’t tired yet, but he still had so much farther to go. Maybe he could cut through the alleys?

Tony did his best not to worry, but thoughts crept into his head without consent, and he was starting to get antsy. _’What if I can’t be changed back?_ Tony couldn’t fight, couldn’t work on any of his projects, couldn’t go to board meetings. 

Tony was simmering in frustration. He tried sprinting for a block or two but nothing helped; maybe he could find a way to burn energy on his way to the mansion. Maybe Tony could work on his agility? He had to get used to his new body, in case worst came to worst.

Tony found an alley with a brick wall at the end, and considered his options. He could use the close walls to propel himself up and out. He could also use the dumpster as a platform to jump off and onto a wall, and from there he could use his momentum to clear the barrier. He made up his mind and leaped onto the dumpster, then straight at the wall. Tony had a second of panic as he slipped, but then he pushed off and jumped over the brick wall without a scratch. Easy.

He made his way through New York using mostly alleys, getting creative whenever he hit a roadblock. It got easier as he went and it was maybe an hour later when Tony turned onto the street where the mansion was waiting. He picked up speed and reached the driveway in a full sprint, clearing the security gate with a hop onto the trash can and over.

The front door didn’t budge when Tony reached it, but he wasn’t surprised. He started to bark instead, hopping up on his hind legs to get JARVIS’s attention. 

Nothing happened. 

He was getting terribly frustrated at how limited his life was so suddenly. Dog’s didn’t have a language, and all the noises like barks and growls and yelps conveyed emotion more so than actual words. Tony quite literally couldn’t speak.

For almost twenty straight minutes Tony barked and scratched at the door, until _finally_ , Steve opened it and glared down at him. 

“What do you want? Leave. Go. Shoo!” Steve stuck out a leg to push him back, and then slammed the door in Tony’s face. He felt a surge of anger well up and he snarled at where he knew the camera was hidden.

 _’God, this fucking sucks! Shooed me like a pidgeon! Get that stick out of your ass, you conceited, self-riteous, assholish bastard!’_ Tony was seeing red and he wanted to hit something, or maybe chew on something. He took off at a sprint and went to the garage, noting with dismay that the doors had been closed since he’d left. Tony continued around the property to every single exterior door to find all of them firmly shut. 

Tony trotted over to a tree and found an appealing stick, flopping down on his side next to the trunk so he could gnaw out his anger and think, which were two of the very few options he had left. He needed to convince them that he was at least more than a normal dog. They wouldn’t believe that he was Tony, but maybe they would take him in if they thought he was a meta-dog of some sort? What the hell was he supposed to do, spell out ‘I’m not a dog’ in the dirt?

Tony had made an impressive furrow in the stick by the time he heard a truck pulling into the driveway. It sounded heavy and it wheezed, so it was either a service truck or a really old pickup. And neither were allowed past the gates without Tony’s approval.

Tony put his stick in a spot he would be able to find it later, and kept quiet as he rounded the house and peered into the front yard. Steve was standing at the front door with a woman, and she was holding a noose-pole. Tony had no idea what the name for it was, but it made his fur stand on end- a sensation not unlike goosebumps- because he’d seen them used plenty of times before. 

Tony looked over at the truck and his suspicions were confirmed; it said Animal Control on the back, and it had cages set into the sides. There was another person rummaging through a hatch and getting out cases. He too had a noose-thing.

Tony lifted his lips before he realized he was doing it, and then forced his face to relax. He’d been slowly using more and more dog-like behaviors as the day wore on. Such as chewing on sticks and wagging his tail when he’d smelled a food truck earlier. Tony chastised himself and almost missed Steve and the woman turning to look at him.

“That’s the dog!” Steve called, pointing at Tony and taking a step forward. The catchers were faster; they both darted forwards with their noose poles and Tony’s heart leapt into his throat as he took off at a sprint, eyes darting around the yard for an escape route. He looked to the left and saw that one of the catchers had rounded the house and was trying to cut him off.

 _’No ring around the rosie, then.’_ Tony’s eyes landed on the tree he had been under. It was only a couple feet from the fence; maybe he could jump off of it to reach the top?

Tony put all his eggs into the half-cocked basket that was his plan, and leapt with all he was worth. He pushed off from the fence, then off from the oak, and right over the top and out. He barked in delight, getting out of range of the poles as the catchers tried to get him through the bars. He was a free dog!

Or, well, not so much. If the Avengers were going to call Animal Control because he was lying around in their backyard, he wouldn’t make much progress getting into the mansion. He needed a plan- and fast.

No way was Tony Stark going to eat out of a dumpster.

 

The horrible, disgusting truth about life is that sacrifices have to be made.

In other words, Tony lasted two days before he tipped over a trash can and went at the spilled contents like it was Thanksgiving at the Jarvis’ residence. 

No one would ever know, anyways. It was Tony’s secret. And he was going to take it to the grave.

 

Two days and Tony had made no progress. The first day, he’d jumped with the trash bin again, and he’d been chased out by an angry Steve with a lawn chair. The second day, they’d realized his trash secret, and had put the bin inside the gate to thwart him. Animal control hadn’t been called again, though it was likely because Tony hadn’t been in the yard for more than five minutes since the last incident. He was still going to count it as a win.

Tony wasn’t as ravenously hungry as before, and wasn’t looking at the sparrows with a mad gleam in his eye, so he took some time to sit down and think over his options. He was hiding out in an alley a block away from the mansion- just in case Animal Control was monitoring the street and being a little more vigilant than before. The cement was cool on his legs, but the fur of his body kept him perfectly warm, which was a small blessing so late in September. Hopefully he could get back into the Avengers’ good graces before the first frost.

Obviously, just getting in wasn’t going to work, at all. He hadn’t had the chance to convince the team that he wasn’t an average dog. So he needed something big. Something that would catch their attention as soon as he was over the gate, and hopefully keep him from being run off by patio furniture.

What was big enough? Tony wasn’t able to do much as a dog. At least nothing obvious like a banner that read ‘I am Tony Stark, stop throwing things at me’. He wouldn’t have enough time to get all the way up to the front door, let alone spell in the dirt. Tony _knew_ Steve had set up an alert for JARVIS to tell them whenever Tony made it over the fence. It was the only reason he had been so quick on the draw the second day.

What was with that, anyways? JARVIS had to know by now that their Tony was the wrong one. Loki could never completely mimic him- it was an illusion, there was no way he knew enough about Tony to get that good. _Maybe he’s using magic?_ The thought made Tony’s blood boil. _Magic, touching_ my _AI? Not over my dead body._ Tony resumed his angry gnawing on a large bone he had found behind a dumpster. He had no idea where it came from, and he never wanted to find out. It was as stress-relieving as a sparring session, so he wasn’t going to look too deep into it. 

By that point it had been nearly three days of moping around and pretending that he wasn’t eating garbage, and it was getting old. Fast. Tony had already choked on a chicken femur and he wasn’t about to be killed by dead poultry. He needed to do something about the situation; he needed to take a stand.

Tony set off with a renewed determination, making his way through alleys back towards the mansion. He was sprinting up the drive towards the gate when suddenly there was a burst of rainbow-looking energy in front of him and he was sent sprawling back a few yards from the force.

When Tony sat up and shook himself out, he was met with a sight for sore eyes. Thor was looking at him in amusement as he lowered his hammer and scanned his biometrics to get in the gate.

‘Thor! Man, am I glad to see you. You’ll never fucking guess what happened!’ Tony bounded up to him and wagged his tail, subtly blocking him from getting any further up the driveway. 

“Hello, dog.” Thor bent down, setting his hammer on the sidewalk as he brought himself down to eye-level. Tony was suddenly hit with a wave of respect; Thor was the most kind-hearted and courteous out of them all, so much so that he was treating a dog just like he would a human, and Tony was so grateful for it that he wanted to cry. 

_’Follow me! I have something to show you!_ ’ Tony thought desperately, putting both his paws on Thor’s shoulders for a moment before backing up and beckoning him forward with a paw.

“You wish for me to follow you? I must admit, never have I been acquainted with so intelligent a Midgardian animal as you.” Thor said, humoring Tony as he was led to a small patch of dirt at the end of the drive.

Tony used the claws on his right paw to slowly spell out the word ‘Tony’, looking up at Thor hopefully while the god frowned and stroked his beard.

“Does this spell out ‘Tony’?” He asked, and Tony nodded frantically. Thor seemed a bit surprised. “You understand english?” Thor was bemused, bending down again. Tony nodded and Thor frowned even harder.

“Would you by chance know of a man named Tony Stark? Is that the matter at hand?” Tony nodded again, and Thor seemed to come to a conclusion, standing up and brushing himself off.

“Well, then by all means, let us go speak with the man. He would be delighted to know of a dog such as yourself.” Thor started back up the driveway and Tony trotted behind, trying and failing to keep his tail from wagging. Progress!

Tony was right on Thor’s heels as the god threw open the front door and boomed out; 

“Friends, I have returned from my travels!” 

It was so loud that Tony wasn’t surprised when all of the other Avengers (minus Loki and surprisingly Bruce) came rushing in from the kitchen. They all looked excited to see Thor, until Steve glanced down and noticed Tony standing next to him.

“Thor, why did you let the dog in?! We’ve been chasing him off for the better part of this week-” Steve stepped forwards as if to grab Tony, but Thor put out an arm to block him.

“This dog says he knows Anthony, and that he wishes to speak with him.” Thor said gravely, and the rest of the team looked at him like he was nuts. 

“You can speak to dogs.” Steve deadpanned, arms crossed and utterly unbelieving. The rest of the team shared similar looks of doubt.

“Of course not!” Thor scoffed. He turned to Tony and crossed his arms. “There are more ways to communicate than just words. Do you know Anthony Stark?” Thor said, giving a smug look to the others when Tony nodded his head slowly and deliberately. They all shifted uncomfortably and their faces went from doubtful to resigned acceptance.

“What does he want?” Natasha asked, looking at Thor instead of Tony. The god shrugged.

“He is only able to answer yay or nay questions, lady Romanov. Perhaps his intentions will become more clear once we unite him with friend Anthony.” Thor said, moving forward towards the hallway that lead to the basement stairwell.

“Woah, Thor, wait. We know nothing about this dog. What if he’s here to hurt Stark? When we found them the first time, it was attacking him. This dog broke his leg! Why should we let him anywhere near him?” Clint said, holding his arms out to stop Thor from going down to the workshop.

“You injured Anthony?” Thor asked, sounding like he’d been betrayed. It was a kicked-puppy sort of look that would make anyone feel guilty. Tony almost felt bad, but he had to remind himself that it was Loki, not an innocent civilian.

Tony barked, turning in a circle and jumping up and down. The Avengers looked at him like he’d gone crazy, and Thor frowned a little harder.

“Can we trust you?” Thor asked, crossing his arms and staring Tony down. It was uncomfortable, but Tony’s conscience was clear. He nodded vigorously and spun around again, trying to convey the urgency of the situation.

“You’re sure that you can’t speak to dogs? What the hell does he want?” Steve asked, subtly shuffling his feet and setting his jaw. The Jaw was never a good sign.

“I can not say. Would you like to write something else for us?” Thor asked, and Tony nodded so hard he thought his neck was going to break

It was at that point that Bruce emerged, looking like a deer in headlights; he was probably fresh from a science binge, the lights too bright and not enough coffee in his system to function any higher than 57%. Tony knew the feeling.

“What’s going on? Why is there a dog?” Bruce paused halfway into the kitchen and finally seemed to notice Thor. “Oh, hey. When did you get back?”

“Just now, friend Banner.” Thor beamed, and Bruce blinked owlishly a few times before he turned and shuffled into the kitchen without a word. The rest of them paused for a second before they realized what they had been talking about before.

“He can write? How does he hold anything- he has paws!” Clint pointed out, and Tony shook his head.

“He traced words into the soil, so perhaps he needs dirt?” Thor said, but Steve shook his head.

“I have some paint and paper, I’ll be right back.” He strode off to his bedroom, muttering all the while and leaving the rest of them to sit and stare at each other. Clint broke the silence.

“So if you turn out to be not-evil, what then? Stark can’t talk to dogs either. And you can’t stay, since he already made a no-animals rule.” Clint started to pick at his fingernails and Tony heaved a sigh. 

“Is this enough paper?” Steve called, holding a few tubes of red paint in one hand and a giant roll of paper in the other. Tony nodded and bounced impatiently, itching to finally tell them that they had an impostor in their midst. Steve shot him a glare as he rolled the paper on the ground and squirted a liberal amount of paint in the corner, then gestured as if to say, ‘go ahead’.

Tony dabbed the pad of his paw in the paint and started to write, being as neat as he could so that they could read it. All of them crowded around to watch, faces set in frowns as the sentence took form.

‘He is not the real Tony.’

“What? What else would he be? He ain’t a robot, or a clone... I don't think.” Clint scoffed, but Natasha and Steve were contemplating a bit more heavily.

“He was acting a bit strange the other day. He gave me the weirdest look when I brought down lunch, like I had gone nuts.” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Do you know who he is, then?” Natasha asked, arms crossed and posture tight. 

Tony nodded and dipped his paw again, spelling out one giant word in all caps.

‘LOKI’

They all made sounds of displeasure, and Clint’s face went a little pale. Thor was looking thunderous.

“I had come with the news that my brother had escaped Asgard, but I knew not that he would travel here.” Thor’s hand gripped Mjolnir’s handle tight and Tony didn’t envy the hammer at all. “Though I am not surprised.”

“Wait, wait, wait. How do we know he’s not lying?” Bruce called, and they all looked over at where he was leaning against the door frame, hot cup of coffee clutched in his hands and hovering just beneath his chin. “Maybe this dog _is_ Loki, trying to get us to attack Tony. How are we supposed to know you’re telling the truth?” All eyes turned on Tony, and he pushed the roll with his foot to get more paper, smearing the last of the paint glob onto his paw and trying to use as few words possible.

‘Quiz him.’ 

Bruce walked over and peered over Natasha’s shoulder, humming and sipping at his mug. 

“I suppose that would work. I’d love to get my hands on that greasy little weasel if you’re telling the truth.” Bruce said, shrugging innocently as Thor shot him a look. 

“If Stark really is actually Loki, we need to go deal with that, _now_. Suit up and meet here in two.” Steve barked, abandoning the art supplies and striding off towards the bedrooms. Natasha and Clint were the only other two that needed to change, so Bruce and Thor turned their attention to Tony. 

“So how do you know all this? And who are you, anyways? Are you actually a dog?” Bruce asked rapid-fire, but Tony knew exactly what to say, stepping on the tube of paint to get more and start a new sentence.

‘I am the real Stark.’


	5. Green Bastardo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to drop me a comment if you like the chapter! Also feel free if there's something you want to see happen, i might be able to work it in ;)

“So you’re saying that you’re Tony?” Bruce sounded surprised, then he frowned. “Prove it. What’s the name of our secret boyband? What happened to you and Rhodey in the summer of ‘93? What blend of coffee is your favorite? Which Kardashian do you think is ridiculous?” Bruce asked, and Tony went right back at it, paw swiping across the paper as fast as he could legibly write.

“The Science Squad. Bull riding in Denver. Organic Yukon. ALL OF THEM?’ 

Tony looked up, and Bruce’s lips thinned before he took a few steady gulps of steaming coffee.

“Those were basic questions. Tony Stark 101. I need something more specific…” Bruce trailed off, unclasping one of his hands from his mug. “What’s the Operation Harlem override code?” Bruce asked, knuckles white on his cup. Tony was the only person who had those codes, and it would make them both uncomfortable to have it on paper somewhere. But Tony needed to prove himself- and he had the most expensive paper shredder on the market upstairs in his office.

‘Alpha-10-36-Foxtrot-Delta-Green-28-78-58-18.’ 

Bruce nodded, bending down to look Tony in the eyes from across the finger-painting canvas.

“Laundry Day?” Bruce asked, and Tony let out his breath in a _whoosh_. That was the name of one of his last-ditch backup plans; Laundry Day was a code that could be used by the other Avengers if Tony was killed and someone had acquired his tech. It was an override that caused every single armor he’d ever built to initiate self-destruct.

‘Sierra-fiver-0-9-9-18.’ 

Tony wiped the rest of the paint off his paw and made sure it was clean, stepping back and trying not to let his skin crawl. Anyone who got a hold of those codes and could synthesize a voice recording of any of them would be able to use them.They required voice recognition to work, but there were people out there capable of doing it. Tony knew it was possible.

“Alright, I believe you.” Bruce rolled up and tore off the used paper, setting it aside to be destroyed later. He then sat down heavily next to Tony and whipped his phone out. He used the arm holding the coffee to wrap around the back of Tony’s neck and he held out his phone with the other, smiling as he snapped a selfie. Tony peered over his shoulder at the shot and Steve walked in to see them both focused on the phone, chuckling to each other as Bruce set the picture as Tony’s contact image.

“What the heck? Are you buddies now?” Steve’s voice was hard as flint; he still didn’t believe Tony and he looked ready to kick him back out onto the street.

“Steve, he’s not lying. This is actually the real Tony.” Bruce said, giving Tony a quick scratch behind the ears before he stood up and cracked his back. Steve looked at him as if he’d sprouted a second head and Bruce sighed. “He knows the codes for Harlem and Laundry Day, I think that’s plenty of proof.” 

Steve’s demeanor changed and he took a long hard look at Tony, frown deepening. 

“Well then we’d better go deal with the guy in the basement.” Steve said, just as Natasha and Clint came jogging in from the other room. Thor had wandered into the living room while Bruce and Tony wrote out the codes, but he came back in after the spies and gave a solemn nod.

“Let us settle this.” Thor said, looking at Steve to lead the way. The other Avengers gave Tony skeptical looks before they all headed downstairs to the workshop. Tony’s blood started to boil at the thought of Loki touching his stuff, and he had to consciously keep himself from growling. 

They all entered the lab to see ‘Tony’ typing on the main computer, all the bots in their charging stations and powered off. They must have manually been shut down, which Tony knew they hated, and it made him want to go for Loki’s throat. He kept himself in check and stood next to Thor while Clint got Loki’s attention.

“Hey Stark, Thor is back. And we’re also getting a dog, hope you don’t mind.” Thor and Tony were at the front of their little group, and when Loki turned around, he looked them up and down with a look of mild interest. He searched Thor’s face and seemed to realize that he knew, dropping the expression for one of disdain.

“Well, I suppose my ruse is up. Pity. I was so close to dismantling this wretched computer.” Loki stood up and didn’t even reach for his crutches before he smoothed out his shirt and took a step forwards. The other Avengers were finally convinced, murmuring to each other. Tony had already had enough. _Loki had tried to destroy JARVIS._ And that was _not_ going to stand.

 _’You twisted son of a bitch. Nobody fucks with JARVIS and gets away with it.’_ Tony snarled, body tensed to leap. It wasn’t rational, or even remotely smart, but he was so incredibly _angry_ that he didn’t really care.

“Well, it seems the party is over. It’s been rather dull if I do say so myself, and I must be off.” Loki sneered, raising his hands as if to cast more magic. The rest of the team tensed up for the fight, but Loki didn’t act upon his threat. Instead Loki looked down at Tony and put his fingers together as if ready to snap them and vanish. 

“How sad, that they don’t want you. Even as a human they were only ever interested in your applications. Already I have gotten three requests to fix body armor and nothing much else from your teammates, though they seem content to interact amongst themselves. Perhaps I did you a favor, Stark.” His fingers glowed green, but before he or the other Avengers could move, Tony leapt with a snarl and sank his teeth into Loki’s arm. The god grunted and grabbed Tony by the scruff, sinking in his fingernails and ripping him off to see that it wasn’t even bleeding. Terrific. 

Tony started kicking his legs and twisting in an attempt to get down. The skin on his neck was screaming in pain from being held up for so long. It felt the same as being dangled by the hair on his head; Tony had experienced that more than enough for one lifetime.

Loki dropped his illusion and went back to looking like himself in full ensemble, pulling an Asgardian knife out of a pocket in his robes. He tightened his grip on Tony and pointed the blade at the assembled heroes. Tony growled and turned his head, more than ready to bite Loki right on his smug looking face.

“You wouldn’t dare; not when I hold a weapon to your neck.” Loki hissed, pressing the blade flush against the fur of Tony’s throat.

At this point the others were almost vibrating with restraint, looking back and forth between Loki and Tony. They couldn’t attack without putting their teammate in danger. _Whether or not they like me, at least they need me enough to not risk me getting injured._ Tony thought bitterly, as he and Loki had a mini stare-down. 

Tony snarled and clamped his jaws down on the majority of Loki’s face, teeth sinking into the god’s cheek bones.

Loki shouted in surprise and sliced his knife across the meat of Tony’s shoulder before he dropped it, instead using both hands to pull at Tony, who held on for dear life. He couldn’t see what was going on behind him but he saw mjolnir glint out of the corner of his eye and Loki’s body lurched to the side. They nearly toppled over, but Loki finally yanked himself free, and then he was gone, letting Tony drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes. His back hit the cement and all the air was pushed out of his lungs in a _whoosh_. For several moments there was a commotion all around Tony but he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. 

“Stark? Are you alright?” Clint suddenly loomed over him, and then felt around Tony’s head for bumps.

As soon as Tony could get in a breath he gasped, rolling onto his stomach, leaving smears of blood behind as his chest heaved and his head cleared. Steve and Thor were scouring the lab for any other signs of Loki, while Natasha had vanished, and Bruce nudged Clint out of the way to resume the prodding himself.

“Hey, Brucie-bear. How ya’ been?” Tony said tiredly, letting himself be examined and rolled over until Bruce found where he was bleeding. 

“This might need stitches. Clint, get me the first-aid kit from over there.” Bruce ordered, pointing at the one hanging on the wall next to the doors. Clint hurried off and Tony scowled at Bruce when he started to press harder on the gash. “Sorry, Tony. Please sit still.”

Clint returned and opened the kit, sitting down next to Bruce and handing him the antiseptic. They made short work of cleaning and stitching the wound. Tony was suddenly exhausted and he let them move him around as they pleased, not even twitching when they had to shave off some of the fur to stitch him up safely. That part had been a bit tedious; Bruce sent a helicopter-ing Steve upstairs to get an electric shaver while Thor leaned against one of the tables and looked to be doing some heavy thinking. Clint was subdued the whole time while Bruce kept up a conversation, mostly with himself. Natasha hadn’t returned.

Tony rolled his head to look at Clint. He was staring off at the far wall with a scowl on his face, though he wasn’t fidgeting with his bow like usual. Tony figured it wasn’t a good sign and he made a growl-bark noise, nudging Clint’s hand with his nose.

“None of us speak dog, Stark.” Clint grumbled, handing Bruce a roll of tape to hold the gauze in place with one hand while he scratched under Tony’s chin with the other. He closed up the first aid kit once Bruce was finished. 

“Anthony must be put to rights.” Thor called, straightening up as he looked over to where Steve was leaned against the wall. “Though I must also continue my search for Loki. He can not have left Midgard, and now that we know he is near, we shall find him.” With that he strode out of the workshop and turned to go back up the stairs. Natasha walked in as Thor walked out, phone held out in one hand.

“Fury is on the line, Cap.” She handed it over and Steve left the room to talk while Bruce and Clint tried to get Tony up onto his feet. 

“Come on, Tony, let’s go back upstairs.” Bruce said, scratching behind Tony’s ears. It had the opposite effect of what Bruce was aiming for, and Tony simply sprawled himself out on the cool concrete floor. Clint was still acting weird but he too started to pet down Tony’s back almost absent-mindedly. Tony wasn’t going back upstairs; once they stopped petting him, he was going to figure out what Loki had done to JARVIS, and get him operational again. They were sitting ducks without him protecting the mansion.

“Fury wants to be briefed as soon as possible, so we’ve been summoned to the helicarrier for a meeting in exactly an hour.” Steve said as he leaned back into the room, pointing his phone at all of them to emphasize his words before he vanished again. Clint stood up and brushed himself off before holding out a hand to help Bruce up.

“Well, that means we have an hour to kill. And Tony needs supplies.” Clint had a shit-eating grin on his face, but Tony had no idea why. He also detested the notion of supplies- he had anything he wanted there in the mansion. What else did Clint think he needed?

 

Apparently, Tony needed everything. They got him toys, brushes, bath soap (which would never be used if Tony had anything to say about it), a leash and harness, nail clippers, a bed (why the hell couldn’t he use his own?), dog food (no way would Tony be eating that crap), and finally, a few shirts. Clint actually picked out a Hawkeye hoodie and chased Tony halfway across the store before he could get it on him. Once it was on Tony found that he didn’t really mind it, so he allowed it to stay while they took pity on him and grabbed an Iron Man hoodie as well.

Tony also made a fuss about the bed while Clint just scoffed. 

“Well you can’t open doors as a dog. What if the door gets shut while you’re in your room? It’s easier for you to be living in the main communal areas, where there aren’t so many ways to get stuck.” He made it sound sensical, but Tony was still pissed about it when they got back to the mansion.

They made it back just in time to catch the quinjet, and Tony found himself actually _strapped in_ to one of the seats by an adamant Steve, who insisted it was to keep him from getting hurt. Natasha took a couple of sneaky photos of Tony in the Hawkeye hoodie as they took off.

Ten minutes of stifled chuckles and pictures before they made it to the helicarrier and Tony was finally released from his new personal hell.

“We’re in meeting room 5, like usual.” Steve called, but Tony was already off, leading them through the halls while SHIELD agents gave them some intense side-eyes as they passed. A dog wearing a Hawkeye hoodie probably wasn’t even close to the weirdest thing they’d ever seen, but it wasn’t a common sight on the helicarrier either.

Fury wasn’t amused as they entered the room, eye narrowed at Tony.

“I don’t want Stark getting fur all over my helicarrier, so let’s make this brief.” He said, as ill-tempered as usual. He seemed especially grouchy, though it was warranted; they’d had Loki almost within their grasp and he’d slipped right from the Avengers’ fingers.

They all sat down in their usual spots and the meeting went relatively smooth, minus the occasional bark from Tony that they had to try and interpret as best they could. They all walked away slightly irritated as per the usual.

What wasn’t the usual was turning down into SHIELD medical. Even when they had injuries, it had to be severe for any of them to willingly accept medical care. Everyone besides Steve and Tony split off to go back to the hanger. Tony made to go with them, but Steve had his leash in hand (a requirement from Fury) and firmly tugged him towards medical. What the hell was going on?

Tony found out soon enough when Steve grabbed him and plopped him right on an examination table. Tony scoffed. He’d been betrayed. How could Steve do this? Cap was throwing him to the wolves!

 _’Well this is peachy. Who’s great idea was this? I bet it was Brucie.’_ Tony thought, glaring at Steve. _’You must have drawn the short straw. Figures.’_ He was about to formulate an escape plan when a nurse came in and beamed at the two of them, Steve basically pinning a squirming Tony down on the table.

“Hey, guys! My name is Hannah Hill, and I’ll be helping you out today. Director Fury called me in when you requested a veterinarian, since SHIELD doesn’t actively have any on payroll.” Hannah explained, and Tony whipped his head around to give Steve his best murderous expression. He wasn’t phased, and just shrugged.

“Sorry, Tony. You won’t go to medical as a human, but as a dog, I can actually make you go. So just let her make sure you’re healthy and we can leave.” Steve whispered, and Tony’s blood started to boil. _Make him_? So as soon as he was changed into an animal, he gave up his rights? He had a major bone to pick with Steve, but he couldn’t talk, and it was hard to convey anger through finger painting.

“So, what have we got here? You’re a beautiful boy… Tony, did you say his name is? He seems in really good condition.” Hannah picked up his feet and examined them, checked his teeth, his ears, and his eyes. She hummed to herself before jotting things down on her clipboard and then turning to Steve when she pulled off the Hawkeye hoodie and gently peeled back the gauze from the stitched wound on Tony’s shoulder. “This is really recent. What happened?” She asked, turning back and investigating it closer.

“It actually happened an hour or so ago. Before our meeting with Fury I was making lunch, and Tony got so excited he knocked me right over while I was dicing tomatoes. I felt horrible about it, but luckily we have a resident doctor who patched him up. None of us are vets, though, so we really appreciate you coming up to give him a physical. I know it must have been out of the way.” Steve lied right through his teeth, though somebody who hadn’t been there would have no idea. Tony’s jaw nearly dropped open; it was well known amongst the Avengers that Steve had the worst poker face out of them all. _Had he been playing them the whole time?_

Hannah gave Steve a smile and nodded. “It wasn’t totally out of the way; I have a relative who works for SHIELD, and I’ve always wanted to check out the helicarrier.” She gave Tony some new gauze and re-taped the wound, putting the sweater back on him and rubbing underneath his chin. 

“It’s always so awful when we accidentally hurt our own pets. He seems alright though, and your doctor did an excellent job on this. I’ll give you some antibiotics, just to prevent infection.” Hannah left the room for a few seconds and returned with a little orange pill bottle full of tablets. “Have you had to give a dog medicine before?” She asked kindly, and Steve shook his head, looking bashful. Tony was so going to tease the shit out of him about his previously non-existent acting skills once he was human again.

“Well, it’s pretty easy to give a dog medicine. Just tuck it into a piece of food, like a small bite of hot dog or other meat. They can hardly ever tell that it’s in there, and if he can, try different foods until it works.” Hannah said, handing Steve the pills and giving Tony one final scratch behind the ears. “I own a clinic down in Manhattan, so here’s my card if you need to contact me for anything.” Hannah said, handing Steve a business card before she gave them a final smile and left. 

Steve pocketed it and picked Tony up to set him on the ground, ignoring the way Tony growled and squirmed. 

_‘I can handle myself, you know. I didn’t break a leg or get mind-whammied. Not that any of you care. I’m just the resident asshole, right? Put up with me long enough to get the job done, and then you run. Honestly, I don’t blame you. That’s how everyone deals with me. Only two people on this planet can actually stand to be around me for longer than they have to, and I had to pay them at the start anyway.’_ Tony would have loved to give Steve a piece of his mind, but he could only growl. That got him a glare as they walked back down the hallway and Tony sighed.

They got on the helicarrier, flew home, and everyone dispersed. Tony was left standing alone in the foyer wondering why he was fighting so hard for a family he had no place in.

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is going to be pretty long, at least to my standards. I'm already halfway done and I'm at 40k, so expect maaaany more chapters in the future. Please leave a comment or a kudos, they really show me if you guys like the story and encourage me to power through!


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